Grief and Conflict

We are humans, all of us.  Regardless of our spiritual paths or our religious beliefs, we are not immune to the truth that death is a part of our experience.  We will all lose people we love and we will all have to work through our grief over those losses.  None of us get a pass on this in life.  

Seventeen days ago, my younger brother died unexpectedly and suddenly.  We have shared more than one lifetime together, as well as our bloodline.  I loved Him and we had conflict between us, and we stopped working on our relationship about two decades ago.   

Sometimes we will lose someone we love without warning, with no time to prepare or to say our farewells.  And as is the nature of relationships, either family or lovers or friends, sometimes that loss will be of one with whom we have conflict.  Love and conflict are more often companions than mutually exclusive conditions.  For conflict with one we do not love is often reason enough to walk away from another person but, we will persist in spite of conflict if we love another.  And so, grief is often complicated by unresolved conflict with the one we loved and lost. 

We each grieve in our own way, and in our own time.  For me it is a delayed experience.  For the first two weeks, my perception of reality was surreal, often blurry and out of proportion.  Then life became normal again and my grief began to visit me at night.  When all is quiet and my mind can identify what my heart and soul are actually grieving and, my heart and soul can feel that grief, it is the conflict that I feel, and the pain of that conflict and the anger that it exists. 

Another conflict that accompanies grief is that in moments of unexpected emotional crisis, old habits of behavior, old patterns of relating within the family, reassert themselves.  Conscious effort is required to recognize these habits and patterns and to re-establish newer skills and ways of being.  It challenges my sense of self, and forces me to reexamine my relationships with those whom I love who remain.

I have work to do.  Including the work of reaching out to Him whom I have lost to assist in what way I can, and to ask Him to work with me to make some peace between us before the next life we share.  May our Ancestors and my Gods and Allies bless us and assist us in this work.  Blessed be. 

Us and Them

I have noticed a common theme in a lot of discourse lately.  In political discourse, in the discourse among the greater Pagan community, in the social discourse of our society.  The persistence of the idea that there are separate groups of people who are somehow common to each other and yet separate from other groups.  Black and white, male and female, rich and poor, cis and trans, gay and straight, old and young, christian and pagan, liberal and conservative.

The thing I find incongruous about these distinctions is that they are perceived but not actually real.  Not all women have the same experiences, not all cis women have the same experiences, not all white, straight, cis women, who grew up at the same time in the same socio-economic situation in the same geographic area, or even in the same family of origin have the same life experiences.

We are a common species with a common genome.  We are all human and that is all the commonality we really have or need.  Each one of us has a unique experience in this or any lifetime.  Any two or three people can find other points in common.  Mothers are mothers no matter the color of their skin.  Men are men no matter who they love.  Women and men of different generations and different backgrounds can find that deep inside they share something of shadow. 

We are each unique and yet, we each share points in common with other people.  I believe that if we look to see truly, we can find one point of commonality with any other individual human we meet.  We can each learn something, a different perspective than our own, from the unique differences of each other's experiences. It is my hope that in the coming year we will each strive to see us all as us, and not as us and them.  

Not All Women

I understand that many women live with pain and fear every day.  I understand and acknowledge their need and their right to share their stories and bring awareness of the inequity of their suffering to our greater society.  I have compassion for them.  But the only statement I am willing to let someone else make about me as a woman, is a statement that applies to all humans, for example, “All humans have the right to live without fear or abuse”.  (I would actually prefer that the statement refer to all persons, human and other, but that is another subject).

Many of the statements made recently about “all women”, do not apply to me.  I do not live in fear " because I am a woman". I have not suffered abuse " because I am a woman".  I am not a victim " because I am a woman".  No man in my life has caused me pain " because I am a woman". 

In fact, I know more than one wonderful man who has suffered pain and abuse and who has lived with more fear than I have ever known (and for the record at least one of them suffered at the hands of a woman).

I am very fortunate and yes, even privileged.  I am grateful for the blessing of a life that holds little to fear and certainly not abuse.  My life is not all ease and leisure but, that has nothing at all to do with my gender.  No one gets to speak for me.  And it makes me angry that anyone would presume to, especially when those statements are untrue.  I do not seek to silence those who need to tell their stories.  I simply ask that they do not presume to tell mine.  

I would suggest that we stop taking sides against each other.  I do not think it serves us as a species to perpetuate the attitudes that divide us, that cause us to see one another as the enemy.  Haven’t we learned yet that hate begets hate?  Regardless of what makes us different, hating those who are different from us, blaming any group of "others" for our own suffering, is a path that leads to horrors that we need not repeat. (Do we really want the KKK or the Nazis to be models for our social discourse?)

I was asked to voice my feelings on this subject by someone who feels he cannot enter the conversation because he is male.  It makes me angry to see another person silenced.  Stories are powerful magick. Keep telling your stories, keep talking to each other, but make room for “Yes, All People”.

The mysteries...

For the past month I have been focused on trying to understand some of the secrets my shadow keeps from my conscious self.  In that time I have been dreaming incessantly.  It has been very disconcerting and has had me more than a little spooked.  At one point I did not sleep for three days.

One of my beloveds has suffered a loss and is grieving.  My heart breaks for this dear one and I weep for them often.  One of my beloveds has begun a new adventure and I rejoice for their excitement and new life.

I spent a wonderful October morning walking in the woods with my sister and High Priestess “solving the problems of the universe”. And an evening under the full moon around the fire with community, wanting to climb out of my own skin.

I attended the beautiful wedding of two cherished young people and was greatly moved by their love for each other and that of their family and friends.   The desire and hope for that kind of happiness was rekindled inside my soul and I hold onto my faith that it is possible with every bit of tenacity that I possess.

I have discovered a young poet who moves me with his voice and his eloquence and his passion more than I can describe because I cannot reach such heights as he although his words lift me up to breathtaking crescendos. 

And my beloved granddaughter was born eight weeks early.

My reactions to all of these things seem to me to be out of all proportion.  My immense joy at the birth of the first of her generation of my bloodline is overwhelming.  My heart seems to be exponentially smaller than it needs to be to hold the love I have for her tiny self.  And although she is very little in the physical sense, she is larger than the entire solar system in my other perceptions.  She also seems to have the magickal power to cause me to time travel.  I find myself reliving her mother’s birth and the pain of separation and all of the “might have been”s that we leave behind in order to live in the present and walk into the future.  And time travel seems to flow in both directions at once.  I feel as though forty-five years is not nearly enough time to love her enough, to teach her enough, to become the woman I want to be for her. 

Dreams and desires, grief and adventure, love and passion, birth and separation, time travel and death.  These are the mysteries and these are the shadows.  These are the lights and the beauty that may be found in the dark nights and sunny days. 

May the blessings of both be with us all as we travel through the dark of the year.